


Britt Reid Bottoms Out

by Lempo Soi (Lemposoi)



Category: Green Hornet (2011), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Crossover, Crossover Pairing, Exhibitionism, Multi, POV Third Person, Paparazzi, Past Tense, Pre-Canon, Public Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-14
Updated: 2011-05-14
Packaged: 2017-10-19 14:09:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemposoi/pseuds/Lempo%20Soi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Britt gets invited to a Stark party. An ulterior motive may be involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Britt Reid Bottoms Out

**Author's Note:**

> I have no explanation or excuse for all these Green Hornet/Iron Man crossovers.
> 
> Contains: Public sex, shallow people, a problematic father-son relationship, manipulative bastard Tony Stark, unsafe and semi-anonymous sex.
> 
> As usual, I had no beta, so C&C, including nitpicking, would be welcome and appreciated.

If Tony Stark invited you to a "small intimate event", it meant he wanted something from you. If you weren't a long-legged beauty of socially acceptable proportions and feminine persuasion, it was probably money - or political influence, whatever. Britt didn't mind. The only thing he had to give was his father's money, and he'd give it away for less than a chance to see how far Tony Stark could take the art of the party. 

Britt was no newb when it came to turning life into a never-ending spring break, but Tony was a legend. It wasn't just the ridiculous mansion throbbing with music and brimming with gorgeous women, or the alcohol, or the stuff that wasn't on display but that you could get just by asking the bartender, or the jacuzzis or the inevitable humpfest in the private bedrooms or the fact that these shindigs tended to cost close to a million a pop. The trappings of a Stark party were conventional enough, but there was the expectation that once you were in, anything Tony Stark said went. You gave up your dignity at the door, along with your autonomy and possibly your clothes, and all you got in return was that you got to say you'd partied with Tony Stark. 

Was it a good time? Reportedly. That almost didn't matter. 

It was close to 1 am and all pretense of cocktails and a light dinner were long past. Bottles, both opened and fresh, lined the side of the jacuzzi and filled the small tables scattered here and there in the spa. Britt sat in the warm water in his trunks with a stream of bubbles tickling his back, making out with someone who's name was either Cassie or Carrie. She was sucking his face like it was a competition, and it was almost a little too enthusiastic but hell, if a gorgeous woman who knew that much about 70s sexploitation films wanted him, he wasn't about to complain. There were two other girls in the jacuzzi, but they were busy with each other in a way that had long since gone past titillation for the boys and into the rainbow territory. 

It was all rather disgustingly pretentious. Britt loved every minute of it. 

"Room for a fifth?" 

Britt looked around and saw Tony Stark for the first time since the cocktails. He was dressed in boxers and a long shirt, through which you could see the blue circular glow of his artificial heart. His hair was tousled and the shirt was stained pink and red with cliché. He was looking straight at Britt. 

"It's your house, buddy," Britt said. Carrie or Cassie slipped off his lap, but stayed wrapped around him, her leg thrown casually over his and her hand an inch from his cock, Britt noticed. 

"So it is," said Tony Stark smoothly, slipped off the shirt and sank into jacuzzi between Britt and the two young women exploring their sexuality. They'd barely even looked up at this intrusion by their host, the legendary weapons manufacturer, superhero and one of the most powerful men in the U.S. He didn't look at them, either. He looked at Britt. 

Here it comes, Britt thought. What do you want, Tony? What he said was, "Sweet party, dude." 

Tony Stark snorted. He looked drawn, worn-out, and still balls-out fascinating. Britt couldn't tell if it was the glamor or the man himself. A bit of both, probably. You looked at Tony Stark and you saw Stark Industries. It gave Britt a secret kind of a dark thrill to think about it. He didn't know shit about politics or war, at least any more than he'd learned by not listening to dear old Dad, but he knew that building things that explode shit the size of mountains was fucking awesome. 

"Glad you're enjoying it, Mr Reid." 

"Jesus, call me Britt." Britt chortled. Carrie (he figured it must be Carrie) was nibbling at his neck, her hand tracing circles on his stomach. 

"Tony." Tony scooted up to Britt, side to his side. He placed a thumb on Britt's chin, the rest of his fingers splayed over his cheek. Before Britt could even make the connection, Tony was kissing him on the mouth. 

Britt's long-since-learned gut reaction to being kissed by a stranger was to go with it, so he let Tony part his lips with his, and touch his tongue briefly to his. Carrie's shocked and delighted giggle tickled his ear. 

Okay. Now. Britt realized he wasn't ugly, exactly. He was pretty sure he had a kind of a rugged charm – that's what the girls said, anyway. But Carrie there was an 8, at least, and he was something more like a 6 with personality, and oh yeah, male. That didn't really fit with Tony Stark's reputation as the ultimate heterosexual alpha male. 

Then again, it was a Stark party, so everything went, and it wasn't like he'd be the first publicly hetero dude to feel up a bro, as Britt well knew. Maybe Stark had heard about the couple of BFFs Britt had had who were more like BFs – even so... 

Tony broke it off and reached for a bottle. Britt cleared his throat. "So, Tony..." 

"We can talk later," Tony said amicably and took a swig. Carrie was back to nibbling Britt's ear, and her fingers were sneaking underneath his waistband. When Tony kissed Britt again, his tongue tasted like straight whiskey. 

It was a very hot kiss. Britt ended up with his head pressing against the rounded edge of the jacuzzi, Tony lying half on him, Carrie biting his shoulder and chest palming Britt's balls without so much as his say-so, not that he'd say no, because he wasn't sure he could make it to a private room without making a display of himself, not unless they gave him some time to catch his breath. He wrapped one arm around Tony and pulled him closer. 

The mechanical thingy purred quietly against his chest. That was so weird, but it didn't matter, because Tony's erection was pressing against his thigh, and Carrie had taken his other hand and put it between her legs, right in the squishy-soft spot, and Britt was a little busy thinking about that. "Holy shit," he gasped when he got a chance. 

Tony grabbed Britt's hair and pulled his head back to reveal his neck and slid his hand down Britt's body to join Carrie's. He popped Britt's dick out of it's confines and ran his thumb along it, palmed it, pumped it. Britt sank his fingers inside Carrie and he moved his thumb on her clit. She made a small, mewling sound. 

Britt's vision swam with alcohol and lust. "Hope you guys know what you're doing," he said as Tony began to kiss and bite his neck. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," he added, and he didn't quite know which one of them he meant. 

"Mmm." Tony moved over to Britt's ear and whispered, "What would your dad say if he saw you now?" 

It was about as welcome as a bucket of ice in the face. "Why the fuck would you bring up my dad right now?" Britt said, shifting away from Tony and staring at him. "Jesus." 

"Well?" Tony asked, raising his eyebrows and leaning his head on his free hand. His other one had stilled on Britt's cock. 

"I don't give a shit what he would think," Britt said, drunkenly belligerent. 

"That's good, since we are in public," Tony pointed out. "But if you don't mind..." he reached for Britt's face again. 

"Hold on," Britt said after another few moments of kissing. "You have paparazzi at this party?" 

"I have people in this party. Word travels. Maybe some of the people have mobiles. I'd have thought you'd realize that." 

"You want to take this out of the jacuzzi?" 

"No," Tony said simply. 

He wanted something. Britt knew he wanted something. It was just that right then it was hard to think of a downside. He could feel eyes on him. Not the maybe-lesbians, they were still wrapped up in each other. That blond guy by the showers. Those girls in the next jacuzzi were actually eating popcorn while they watched. Shit, that was awesome. 

He grabbed Tony's head and pulled him into another kiss. Carrie was shivering around his fingers now, pumping her hips. "Come," Tony ordered. "Come now, then go down on me." 

"Yes, sir," Britt said. Fuck yes. He gritted his teeth and prepared to let go. Tony did something remarkably clever with his fingers, and kept doing it, and Britt could feel eyes on him as the pressure knotted inside him and he came in the water, fast and delicious. Unhygienic, hell, probably. Carrie made a choked sound and slipped off his hand, gasping. 

He was still convulsing slightly when Tony pulled him up into his lap for a fast brutal kiss, handed him a condom and pushed him downwards. 

Britt obeyed readily. Hell, he loved sucking dick. And this was Tony Stark. 

He had time to hear someone say, "He's actually going to--" before the bubbling of the water around his ears drowned it out. 

* 

It was one of the bigger rows. 

The photos that had hit the gossip rags were blurry and dark and easy to dismiss, but the gossip and the few higher quality shots had cost Jim a great deal of money to bury. 

"Why is it such a big deal?" Britt shouted, and he didn't usually shout back. 

Jim threw the photos on the desk of his house office. "It's disgusting, that's why! This is just the sort of garbage papers love when they want to strip you of all credibility! The Sentinel is a conservative paper--" 

"This has nothing to do with the Sentinel!" 

"It has everything to do with the Sentinel!" Jim sighed and sat down behind his desk, putting his head between his hands. Then he smoothed his hair, crossed his fingers, and pierced Britt with a look. "We were going to run a series of columns examining Tony Stark's government ties and some of his more questionable sources of revenue. Now that's off the table, and I have to find something else to print that will, if we're lucky, have half the journalistic value." 

"Oh. Shit." So that's what it was. 

"Oh, shit indeed," Jim said, his voice dripping with disgust. "I'm not going to ask you to keep it in your pants, Britt, since that's clearly impossible. May I respectfully request you be more discreet next time?" 

"Look, you didn't have to do that for me. I could come out. I don't really--" 

"Don't be absurd. Just get out of my sight, Britt. I have a lot of work to do." 

Britt's blood boiled at the dismissal, but he turned on his heel and headed towards the pool house with its extensive drinks cabinet, of which he planned to take full advantage. He needed to get out of the house. 

He was just uncorking a cognac bottle when the cell rang. He propped it between his head and shoulder as he poured. "Britt Reid in the house." 

"Are you angry?" 

Britt grabbed the phone. There was no mistaking that voice. "Tony." 

"I guess I wouldn't blame you." 

"Not with you," Britt said lightly. "Dad's being an asshole about it, though. What up?" 

"Thought I'd make it up for you. There's a little get-together tonight after the tech show. Boring stuff, but the buffet's good." 

Britt grinned, swilling the cognac around in a glass. "Are you asking me out, Tony Stark?" 

"Please, if you're going to use my name like a title, at least make it Iron Man." 

"Let's just get one thing straight, though. If you're planning on getting any more paparazzi shots of me being a bad boy to blackmail my dad with... I'm all for it." 

"Oh?" 

"Fuck that bastard right in the eye, Tony." 

"You and me, Britt – we understand each other. Pick you up at 7 sharp?" 

"I'll be wanton, stoned and half-dressed." 

"Perfect." 

Britt had no illusions. It'd be over in a week at most, and from what he heard, Tony Stark's dismissal procedure was harsh. Still, shit, you couldn't say no, could you? 

Whatever else happened, it would make a good anecdote.


End file.
